by Tie Ning
Tiao gradually felt a burning sensation on the left side of her face, and believed there must be a clear outline of lips on her cheek. When she went to the funeral home for Fei’s service a few days later, she could feel the lip mark still imprinted on her left cheek. A strange man with grey hair stood in front of the funeral home and stared at Tiao’s face, which embarrassed her. She supposed that he must have seen the imprint on her face, a material presence that had a shape and life and didn’t disappear with the disappearance of Fei. A living thing that Fei had planted on Tiao’s face, it remained and frequently made the left side of Tiao’s face feel swollen. The grey-haired man stared at Tiao’s face and said, “The person you had the funeral for is Fei, right?”
Tiao said, “Who are you?”
The man said, “I’m an old coworker of hers from the factory.” Tiao looked at his clothing carefully; he had on a dark blue khaki cotton jacket with a brown plush collar, out of date but very clean. Tiao said, “Are you Master Qi?”
“My last name is Qi. How did you know?”
“From … before … Fei told me.”
“Are you her family—?”
“No, I’m not her family. I’m her friend.”
“I haven’t seen her for years. What about her family?”
Tiao got a distant look in her eye. “She has no family.”
He said, “Oh.”
He turned to push his bicycle, an old Phoenix Manganese 18 bicycle with rust-stained rims, the former symbol of a family’s prosperity. As she looked at this classic, nicely designed old Phoenix, Tiao’s heart quivered with tenderness, as if she were seeing an old acquaintance who had been out of touch for years, as if she were seeing the living witness to Fei’s story. The stories that Fei told her became so real and definite. She imagined the time Master Qi rode that bike into their campus, locked it in front of the administration building, and how Fei, seeing no one around, pulled the air valves out. Tiao gazed at that phoenix symbol, with its delicate and beautiful design—three tails, gracefully lifted, bright red, golden, and emerald green, all of which would call up good associations for Tiao forever.
Master Qi got on his bicycle and left the funeral home. The back of his figure on the bicycle looked lonely and disciplined, and Tiao had the thought that this old worker with his grey hair might be the only one who had truly loved Fei. She was convinced that he had seen Fei’s lips on her face, and maybe he even imagined that Fei’s lips would open and talk from her left cheek. But this was probably just her fantasy. Tiao thought too much.
3
The sofa was still the same, grey-blue satin brocade, in the same place, soft and clean.
She pricked up her ears to listen while she led him by the hand and walked toward the sofa. It wasn’t important that she was pulling with her hand; the important thing was listening. What she valued at that moment was her ears. The light wasn’t on, so the room was dark. Until, after a while, as they started to get used to it, the darkness didn’t appear so solid; light from the building across shone in through the open curtains of the windows. Stillness was everywhere, and she heard nothing, from either Fei or Quan. The sofa made no sound; the screaming had vanished. In her heart was a deep emptiness, but also a relief that she didn’t want to admit. She missed Fei, but she also felt relieved by her death, as if because of it, from now on, Quan would completely disappear from the sofa; only Fei’s death could guarantee that. The sofa now made no sound; the screaming was gone.
All of a sudden tears poured down her face. She felt a sense of complete relief—as when enormous tension is lifted, as though a free and deep sleep had arrived at last, as deep as could be wished after a hundred years of being deprived of it. Her tears unhurriedly washed away obstacles of all kinds in the depth of her soul, unhurriedly welling into her eyes. Immediately he saw that she was crying—by the sparkle of reflected light from outside—and he kissed her wet face.
He must have thought her crying was caused by great sadness. Sadness would linger for many people after a funeral. He tried to comfort her with his kisses and wanted to turn on the light in the living room, but she didn’t let him. She didn’t allow him to turn on the light, and she didn’t want him to kiss her. She was annoyed now, because when he kissed her face, she felt the pressure on the left side again, which was Fei’s lips. It changed the kissing, making it as if he were kissing Fei, not her—kissing Fei’s lips on her face. So Tiao became the intermediary between Chen Zai and Fei, as though she were intimate with both of them, while they took no notice of her, busy only with their own communication. She was like a bed is to a couple who are engrossed in making love; they can’t do it without the bed, but the bed means nothing to them. The thought upset Tiao very much; she evaded Chen Zai’s lips and made him feel awkward. Then he held her by the waist and told her to lie down in bed. He thought she should rest.
In bed, she held on to his hands. As though prompted, he started to remove her clothes. He took off almost everything, and her arms and legs obeyed and seemed happy to cooperate. She was left wearing only a small pair of underpants, white, the kind with embroidery on the front and lace on the sides. The tiny underwear excited him, aroused him even more than her naked body. His hand touched the crotch of her underwear. The small soft and moist spot there gave him chills. He began to take off her underwear, but she seemed desperate to stop him. She insisted on guiding him into her, partly moving aside her underwear. He felt uncomfortable but it also gave him a new, exciting sensation. He didn’t understand her insistence, as if she were purposely setting up obstacles for both of them. Too smooth is not smooth, just as too much freedom is no freedom at all. But soon he was tired of the novel feeling, because it hurt. He tore off the little thing with a couple of tugs and rammed into her without any interference. She seemed to escape the awkwardness she felt from the left side of her face, and his concentration and devoted energy moved her, also. She was willing to cooperate with his rhythms; she was willing to bring about their happy climax at the same time; she was willing to believe he truly loved her and not something else; she was willing to believe that the past had truly become the past.
But more and more she felt distracted. She was very thirsty, and her face began to feel burning pain again, which distracted her. She knew someone shouldn’t be distracted while making love, and that even a grain-sized pimple could affect one’s mood sometimes. Now the left side of her face hurt, but he didn’t notice anything and just kept banging away. She forgot it was she who had grabbed his hands tightly; she forgot it was she who wanted him to sweep away her uneasiness with his actions. Withdrawing into herself then, she was thinking unreasonably, Why does he have to do this to me right now? When she was thinking like that, she couldn’t go on. She said rudely, “Can we just stop? I want to stop.” She said this and started to push him off. She pushed him off her body, grabbed a bathrobe, and went into the bathroom.
She took a hurried shower and stood in front of the mirror to look at her face. Very clearly, she could see a lipstick print on her left cheek, a pink one with a distinct outline. Anyone who knew Fei would recognize it as her lips. She dipped a towel into the water and rubbed her face, and also used disinfectant soap that she had brought back from abroad to wash her face clean of it, but she failed. She looked at her face in the mirror and thought that she still hadn’t escaped from her past. She needed to talk, and she must talk, no matter what Chen Zai thought of her.
She put her bathrobe back on and came to the doorway, as if she had just come in from outside. She started from the doorway, and skillfully turned on all the lights one by one in order: wall light, ceiling light, mirror light, floor light, big desk light, and small desk light … she left the entire place brightly lit. Then she led Chen Zai to the armchair and sat across from him. She said, “I’m going to tell you something.”
Looking across at her, she seemed uncomfortable, and he said, “Do you have to talk about it tonight?”
“Yes, I have to.”
�
�Maybe you should go to bed. I know you’re very tired.”
“I don’t want to sleep, and I’m not tired, either. Don’t interrupt me.”
“But your mood is very unstable.”
She smiled gently and said, “I’m very stable. My mood has never been as stable as today. Do you still remember Quan’s death? In our compound, there was a manhole on the small road in front of our building. She was playing, shovelling dirt under a tree that day, and a few old ladies who were sewing The Selected Works of Chairman Mao called her from a distance, so she walked towards them. She walked over, walked into the manhole, and died. She was two years old.”
“You’ve spoken about this before. Everyone knows the incident.”
“No, no one knows. You don’t know, either. When she was walking to those old ladies, I was right behind her, ten metres away, or maybe fifteen metres. I saw the manhole, saw the lid was not on for some reason. Both Fan and I saw it. We also saw the old ladies wave at her, and their waving made Quan more eager to get there. I didn’t stop her, didn’t run forward and carry her back. I knew I had enough time, but I didn’t do it. Fan and I just held each other’s hands tightly and watched her throw open her arms and fall into the manhole, as if she were flying. Chen Zai, this is me, this is the true picture of me. Not only didn’t I save her myself, but also I pulled Fan back. I can never forget our holding hands and the pull I gave on Fan’s hand. I had tried to explain that it was because I was paralyzed by fear—people can’t take action when they’re paralyzed by fear—but I knew that I wasn’t. My mind at that moment was as clear as it is now. I didn’t like Quan, and neither did Fan. I understand her dislike for Quan, but I can never reveal to her the reason for mine. I’m a murderer, a criminal who has escaped punishment. I planned never to tell anyone, but I was really tempted to tell you after I fell in love with you, not because I wanted to prove my honesty, but because the more the time passes, the clearer the scene of Quan’s death becomes. I really don’t have a heart so big and powerful that I can hold the painful past secret and secure. It kept disturbing my heart. I need someone to help me, to share it with me, and this person is you. I trust you a thousand times more than I trust myself, but I’m also afraid to lose you. Now that I’m finally confessing, Chen Zai, I’m experiencing the kind of relief a person feels once in a thousand years, no matter what you think of me. Do you understand?”
“Tiao, I also need to tell you something: Fan told me all these things a long time ago. When I listened to her, I didn’t hate her or you. I just pitied her; I was even ashamed to tell you. She was not a murderer, but she’s more pathetic than you are.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because she was trying to prove her own innocence by exposing others. You definitely couldn’t hate her.”
“No, I don’t hate her.”
“Then why did you hate Quan?”
Suddenly she felt ashamed, more ashamed than she was at admitting to murder. But she had already made up her mind to bring everything out into the open, so she said, “Because Quan was the child of Wu and Fei’s uncle.”
“So that’s why Fei also got involved in the incident, right?”
Tiao didn’t understand Chen Zai. “No, Fei just told me of her suspicion.”
Chen Zai said, “I also remember something from long ago. It was in the same year, the night before Quan’s death, my mother had a heart attack and I took her to the hospital and then came back to fetch a basin and thermos. When I entered the front gate on my bicycle, I saw someone riding a bicycle in front of me who looked very much like Fei. It was pretty late by then, almost twelve. I wondered why Fei had come at that hour. She could only be there to see you, but why so late? Had anything happened to your family? My concern for you made me curious, so I followed her in secret and, sure enough, she stopped in front of your building. I didn’t want her to see me, so I pushed my bicycle to the side of the road, in behind a row of hollies. She didn’t lock her bicycle and go upstairs. Hesitating for a while, she held her bicycle and then turned back to the small road. Next, she stopped at a particular spot. Now she had me really curious, so I left my bicycle leaning against the hollies and worked my way closer to her. Finally, I saw what she was doing: she stood by the manhole and looked at it blankly. She stared for a while and then looked around. When she saw no one, she pulled out an iron hook from her bicycle, the kind we used to pick up the lid of the stove. She grabbed the iron hook and started to pry up the manhole cover. She panted and huffed quite a bit and finally opened the cover. Then she strained to push it aside and revealed the dark hole. I was hoping that she was not trying to jump into the hole to kill herself, but I dismissed the idea immediately. Manholes are very shallow and that fall couldn’t kill her. Maybe she was looking for something, something she had lost in the hole. Before I could give it any more thought, she had already got on her bicycle and ridden away. It looked as though she were just leaving temporarily to get some tools or find a helper. After she was completely out of sight, I walked over to the manhole. The hole was a bit smelly, and the cover was moved aside, only touching the edge of the manhole. The iron hook was gone, too. I didn’t understand what was going on, but I had no time to figure it out. My mother was still in the hospital. So I went home, got money, basin, and thermos, and rode back to the hospital. I stayed at the hospital to keep my mother company for the night. When I went home the next day at noon, I heard that a child had fallen into the manhole. I immediately thought about Fei, who hadn’t opened the manhole to search for anything. Her purpose was to open the manhole. At the time, I didn’t know her name was Fei, only that she was your best friend; you see how I was back then. I remembered all your girlfriends just because I liked you. Many, many years later, when we grew up and you introduced Fei to me, I still believed without a doubt that she was the one who opened the manhole. It was always a mystery to me. I didn’t understand why your good friend would open the manhole and let your sister fall into it. Now that I know why, I feel guilty beyond words: because I was the only one who saw the cover was off, but I didn’t put it back …”
Tiao seemed to understand everything. She was willing to trust Chen Zai’s memory, even though Fei had already died and nothing could be confirmed. Maybe it was because there was no proof that everything could appear so clear. Maybe Fei wanted to tell her this in the last moments of her life, but the cancer took away her courage. So she could only leave her confessing lips on Tiao’s face.
“I feel lucky that I can tell everything to you,” Tiao said.
“I also feel lucky that I could tell everything to you.”
“You want to say that it’s not only my responsibility.”
“Yes, it’s three people’s business.”
“But you’re innocent.”
“No, one can’t be innocent if he feels guilty.”
“My courage came too late.”
“But you have more courage than I do. There seems to be a disagreement between you and me. If you hadn’t opened your mouth, I wouldn’t have had the courage to talk about that night.”
She arose from the sofa and walked to Chen Zai. She knelt and buried her head in his lap and said, “I love you, Chen Zai.”
He picked her up and sat her on his lap. “I love you, Tiao.”
“I love you. Nothing can stop me from loving you.”
“I love you. Nothing can stop me from loving you, either.”
They held each other and fell asleep. Next morning, when she went to take a shower in the bathroom and looked at her face in the mirror, to her surprise she found the pink lipstick print was gone. Her cheek was smooth and clean.
The shower last night was as unreal as a dream, and was also so real that it didn’t feel like a dream.
4
It wasn’t too difficult for Tiao to get to know Vice Governor Yu Dasheng, but she didn’t want to do it artificially, as most people did when they needed to ask a favour from a governor, through connections or networking. Most of the time
people would get stuck with the secretary, sometimes not even with the main secretary, but some secretary on duty who would get rid of them easily. Tiao didn’t have any favour to ask, so she didn’t have to use that approach. She just wanted to talk with Yu Dasheng about Fei. It was Fei’s final wish and she’d made a promise to her, even though she thought it was absurd.
So she felt it was even more urgent to get to know him naturally.
She was looking for an opportunity, and then the opportunity came to her. One day the Publishing House received a notice informing them that Vice Governor Yu Dasheng was going to accompany a visiting group from Seoul on a tour of Fuan Children’s Publishing House. In addition to making arrangements for the reception at the Publishing House, Tiao also rearranged her office in a special way. She found a picture of her and Fei at home, taken a few years earlier by Chen Zai. In the picture, Fei had on a loose black pullover, with her hair cascading like a waterfall. Her expression was a bit flirtatious, but charming. Tiao sat with her, shoulder to shoulder, and looked very serious. She framed the picture and deliberately placed it on the most visible spot of her desk. She was thinking she would definitely try to get Governor Yu and his guests to her office.
The visitors came, and after a brief colloquium and a book-giving ceremony from the Publishing House, Tiao proposed that they could take a look at the editors’ working environment. The director’s office was the closest to the conference room, and next was the vice director’s office.
With things arranged this way, Yu Dasheng finally walked into Tiao’s office. He caught sight of the framed picture as soon as he stepped in. Tiao felt that Yu Dasheng was paying attention to the framed picture, and she must seize the moment while he was staring at it to strike up a conversation. She said, “Governor Yu, you must know the person in this picture.”
Yu Dasheng hesitated for a moment, a very small moment of hesitation that normally would have gone unnoticed, and then said, “Yes, yes, I know her. She looks like a worker in a factory where I used to work. Her name is …” He looked like he was trying very hard to recall her name.